Do Not Go Gentle
by ejzah
Summary: "You know, I always figured I'd go out with a bang." Hetty and Deeks have an unexpected conversation. This one's a bit sad guys.


A/N: Before we get started, I'd like to point out that this is not exactly what you would call a happy fic. The idea came to me following a post on Tumblr that mentioned Linda Hunt's extended sabbatical. To read a little bit more about the inspiration behind this story and a disclaimer or two, please see the note at the end.

* * *

Do Not Go Gentle

It's a quiet day at the mission; Kensi is off at firearms training and Sam and Callen are at the boatshed interrogating a Petty Officer who unsuccessfully attempted to murder his girlfriend's husband. Deeks is betting that they'll have a confession in less than an hour.

He's spent the last two hours catching up on miscellaneous reports which provide just enough distraction to keep him from getting antsy. In the background he can hear Hetty talking to someone on the phone, her voice rising and falling in a familiar way that suggests she's not pleased with the other party. Deeks smiles to himself briefly; it's good to have things back to normal.

Hetty had appeared one day a few months ago at her desk, unannounced and with an expression in place that suggested she'd never left. Everyone had been too relieved to ask any questions and had simply been content to have their fearless, tiny leader back in charge again.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty says a few moments later, having appeared as silently as ever in front of him while he typed away.

"Hetty, what can I do for you?" he asks.

"I just got off the phone with LAPD. There was a break in at the home of a Navy Lieutenant, Robert Trevino. Among the items stolen, was a laptop he took home from his office which contains classified information," Hetty explains.

"Ooh, that's not good," Deeks comments with a wince. "I bet Lieutenant Trevino is going to be in some pretty hot water."

"Indeed. Now, I need you and Miss Blye to go to Lieutenant Trevino's home and start interviewing witnesses."

"Uh, Kensi's at firearms training," Deeks reminds her. Unexpectedly, Hetty pauses, her entire body freezing for a second while an expression of blatant fear crosses her face. Deeks has never thought of Hetty as anything other than fierce and completely in control, even at her lowest but in this moment she suddenly looks unbearably fragile and unsure.

Then in the next moment, her expression clears and she looks completely in control again.

"Of course, Kensi will join you once she's finished with her training," she replies crisply. He watches as Hetty heads back towards her desk, each step sure and precise.

"What the hell?" he whispers to himself.

* * *

For the remainder of the day, Deeks keeps reminding himself that everyone makes mistakes. Even Hetty, as unlikely as it might seem. It doesn't do any good though; he knows the bigger issue is Hetty's reaction more so than the fact that she forgot something.

At one point, Kensi even asks him what's wrong and he considers describing the incident to her and asking for her opinion. He vetoes that idea quickly though. He has a terrible, sneaking suspicion of what might be going on and it's hardly his place to spread it among the team.

In the end, he waits until the end of the day, when it's just him and Hetty in the office (he'd told Kensi he had a little more paperwork he wanted to finish as an excuse to stay after hours). He approaches her desk slowly, debating the entire time if he should just let it be.

Finally he sits down in one of her ridiculously low chairs without waiting for an invitation before he can chicken out again. She looks at him with a single raised eyebrow.

"Can I help you, Mr. Deeks?" she asks.

"Is everything ok?" Unexpectedly, Hetty chuckles, a low deep sounds, that is bitterly amused.

"Oh, that is a very loaded question, Mr. Deeks."

"Doesn't have to be," he replies seriously. She sighs deeply then and fixes him with a knowing look.

"I assume this is about my little slip earlier today," she confirms and Deeks nods apologetically. "Ah, I had hoped that you would just let it go, but you're far too perceptive for that."

"Do you know what…?" Deeks asks, trailing off as Hetty smiles grimly.

"Probably as you have gathered, I'm in the very early stages of Alzheimer's."

"Well crap," Deeks whispers and for the second time Hetty laughs. Only this time she actually sounds amused.

"Indeed." Wordlessly she stands and gathers a container of scotch and two glasses. She pours a healthy amount into each, handing one to Deeks before she sits down again and takes a gulp. "Toasts seem a little pointless now," she observes.

He tilts his own glass, watching the way the liquid shifts and suddenly he's reminded of Hetty finding him in that bar so many years ago, intent on offering him a job. So much has happened since then. So many lies have been told, anger and resentment building, but none of that can blot out the affection he feels for Henrietta Lange.

"How long have you known?" he prompts when Hetty remains silent for several minutes.

"I started having some concerns a few months after I returned from Vietnam. At first I passed it off as just the residual effects of the trauma I experienced," Hetty offers. "Eventually though I couldn't ignore the facts: I forgot a few important dates, once I got lost driving somewhere and I have never gotten lost a day in my life…other red flags."

"So that's why you were gone so long this time," Deeks guesses and Hetty nods again.

"As soon as I knew you all were safely out of Mexico, I started scheduling doctor appointments. They did all manner of neurological testing and asked me a mind-numbing number of questions and in the end, my diagnosis was confirmed. Now they have me I'm on some bloody medication that's supposed to help slow the progression, but there's no certainty." She takes another sip from her glass, her gaze focused beyond Deeks.

"But you were gone for months. We were worried you'd gone off on another solo mission again."

"Once I had my diagnosis, I contacted a few friends I haven't seen in many years, traveled a little and made sure my affairs were in order." The finality of Hetty's words make Deeks' heart clench painfully.

"Um, who," He clears his throat and brushes at his hair to gather himself. "Who else knows?" Hetty lifts a negligent hand and shrugs.

"You're the first to approach me. But since all my agents are unfortunately perceptive, I'm sure at least one of your teammates has gathered something is quite right," she says. There's a weary kind of relief in her eyes and Deeks realizes that she's been carrying this burden around for months.

"Will you tell them?" Deeks asks and then quickly hastily adds, "I'm not giving you an ultimatum or anything. But I do think that everyone would want to know. You know, if you decide to."

"I did plan to tell you all the first day I came back. Then I sat down in this chair and started giving orders again…everything seemed so normal and I managed to convince myself that I was fine. And every day I had the same intentions and gave myself the same excuse," Hetty explains, the bitterness entering her voice again.

"I'm sorry," he offers, feeling useless and helpless.

"While I appreciate the sentiment, you have no reason to apologize. I think I'm actually grateful that you know. Now it forces me to be honest with myself and with the others." Hetty smiles then, leaning over the table to pat him on the arm briefly before she brings her glass to her lips once more. She swallows slowly, turning contemplative.

"You know, I always figured I'd go out with a bang. Or at the very least like Granger. Lord knows I've put this old body through enough trauma in all its years. I never considered my mind would betray me." Deeks swallows harshly, his eyes burning with the familiar feeling of tears and he feels compelled to grab hold of one of Hetty's small hands.

"Promise…promise me that you won't do this alone. Promise that you'll let us help you, let us be there for you, ok?" he says, his voice hoarse.

"Of course," Hetty agrees easily enough that Deeks wonders if she's simply appeasing him. "Now, I'm sure Kensi is wondering where you are…" Her tone is dismissive, commanding once again as though they didn't just have a life altering conversation.

"Hetty–"

"And I have a letter of resignation to write that I'd rather do without any company," she adds. Deeks nods, accepting her need to regain control, no matter how briefly.

"Good night, Hetty," he whispers as he leaves her alone in the dim light of her desk lamp and the quiet clicking of her nails again the keyboard.

* * *

A/N: This story is I suppose in a way, a sort of tribute to my grandma who is nearing the end of her battle with Alzheimer's.

I also want to note, that I don't in any want to start rumors about Linda Hunt, merely that the thought occurred that a long-term illness, such as dementia/Alzheimer's could explain her recent absence from the show. However, I realize that it's more likely that she's simply taking an extended leave for a completely benign reason.

I am by no means an Alzheimer's expert, I simply tried to utilize the information I have from personal experience and my own minor research.


End file.
